


Bring Tissues

by moonwaif



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, tokyo ghoul :re
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Sick Fic, ayahina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:37:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwaif/pseuds/moonwaif
Summary: "Ayato isn’t sure what’s more annoying: the sniffling, or the way she’s trying to hide it."Adolescent rabbit boy tries not to care about other people, and fails. Ayahina drabble originally posted on Tumblr.





	Bring Tissues

Ayato isn’t sure what’s more annoying: the sniffling, or the way she’s trying to hide it.

She’s been listening to recordings for hours, every so often making a note on a clipboard. It didn’t normally take her this long. From his position against the door-frame, he can just make out the side of her face. Her nose is an angry red, cheeks abnormally pale. He can’t see the rest of her features, obscured as they are by her bangs and the large headphones capped over her ears.

Her neck suddenly stiffens. He can sense her struggling, fighting to hold it in, when -

“ACHOO!”

The headphones slip from her ears with the force of the explosion. She cups a hand over her nose and mouth as a string of coughs follow, rattling through her mousy frame.

Ayato steps in, annoyed.

“What’s wrong with you?” he barks. “Are you sick or something?”

“Oh, Ayato-kun.” Her voice is thick and raspy. “I’m sorry; did I wake you? I think I caught a c-c-” She sneezes again. Ayato grimaces, more used to blood and guts than snot and bacteria.

“ - a cold on the last mission,” she finishes. “Eto told me to finish these recordings, but I keep sneezing and losing my place. I’ve had to restart so many times.”

He crouches beside her, face set in a glower. “You’re no use to us sick. You better just go rest. If not, you’re gonna blow our cover on tomorrow’s mission.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She removes the headphones completely, setting them in her lap as she scoots back ever so slightly, until her back is up against the wall. “If I take a small break, it might be better, right?”

She looks up at him with a smile, then noisily sniffs up a booger hanging out of her nostril.

“Ugh!” Ayato stumbles shakily to his feet. “Fuck, don’t you have a tissue? That’s disgusting!”

She covers her nose, blushing. Her voice is muffled by the too-long sleeve of her jacket. “S-sorry. I couldn’t find any…”

Ayato stalks away, muttering to himself. It’s a bit of a search, but eventually he returns with a roll of toilet paper.

“Seriously, Fueguchi, what kind of self-respecting ghoul catches a cold-”

He stops when he sees her, head drooping, chest slowly rising. He can hear her labored breaths from across the room. An uneasy feeling boils in the pit of his stomach as he crosses over to her. Toilet paper forgotten, he kneels down and joins her against the wall, casting her nervous, side-long glances.

“Hey,” he half-whispers. “Fueguchi.”

She stirs and lets out a little moan. Then, before he can even process what’s happening, her head lolls over onto his shoulder.

He cringes. His first instinct is to shout and fling her off, but then she makes that quiet, sad moan again. The protests die on his lips. Her head is warm and heavy against him - too warm, he realizes with a pang. In fact, his own face is starting to feel warm.

“If you get me sick or drool on me, you’re dead."


End file.
